


Immature

by PawPunk



Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Hurt/Comfort, Implied childhood trauma, M/M, agere, sensory issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:56:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27862665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PawPunk/pseuds/PawPunk
Summary: Just because Tango knows he age regresses when he's upset doesn't mean he likes it. But maybe he should.
Relationships: impulseSV/Tango Tek (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 23
Kudos: 105
Collections: MCYT Age Regression (SFW)





	Immature

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PolarBearQueen3527](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PolarBearQueen3527/gifts).



> Trigger Warnings: sensory overload, self-loathing about age regression, implied childhood trauma, Tango's a bit of a dick to Impulse at one point
> 
> There's no kink in this fic. Hence the G rating.

The space behind Tango’s eyelids hurt. The buzzing pain only dulled when he closed them, never going away, but it was better than looking at anything. Even the weak light of the soul flames burned his eyes, but he wasn’t going to regress.

Six hours. Six hours, Tango had spent doing nothing but restocking Decked Out. In the wake of the announcement that he was closing the game, the hermits flooded in to run the game again. And again. And again. Eventually, Tango had to close the dungeon early.

“Hey man, what gives?” Cub shouted as he left. Tango brushed past him, his body moving on autopilot. “Come on, I was about to go in! I only need one more artifact to complete my set!”

“You can still trade,” Tango said monotonously. Cub followed him, jogging in front of him on the stairs.

“There’s a ton of uniques nobody has, though,” Cub said. “Can you at least put the uniques on sale? I’m sure a lot of people would even give you real diamonds.”

Tango stopped, closing his eyes. He could see flashes of light against his tired eyes. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll go back down. Will you leave me alone now?”

“Yeah. Thanks so much, man!” Cub clapped Tango on the back, seemingly not noticing him flinch. His ears ringing, Tango went to put the unique artifacts on sale.

So there Tango was, picking through dozens of droppers for unique artifacts. His eyes glazed over, missing the item tags as he searched, so he had to go back and look again. A ravager thundered down the tunnel behind him, and Tango covered his eyes, whining at the sound. It was no big deal, he reminded himself.

Because Tango knew where this was going. A bunch of completely normal problems happened, and instead of solving them, he’d act like a little kid- throwing tantrums, giving up on his projects, and doing what he used to do way back then- eating peanut butter Nutella sandwiches and watching cartoons. Well, that wasn’t entirely accurate. It wasn’t acting- he really felt like he was eight years old again, overwhelmed and not ready for adult responsibility. But just because he couldn’t really control when he regressed didn’t mean he was proud of it.

Tango’s communicator beeped, the noise grating his ears. Snarling, he threw a handful of artifacts, watching them clatter to the floor before taking a deep breath. He wasn’t gonna regress, he thought. Tango carefully picked up the items, then looked at the message.

Impy —> You

Impy: Tango, where are u?

Tango tried to type out an answer, but his clumsy fingers failed him. Sighing, he turned on text to speech. “I’m working on decked out. Send.” After a few seconds, another message appeared.

Impy: Still? Its been like hours

“Yep. Selling the last uniques,” Tango said breezily, as if his exhaustion would carry over the text and alert his boyfriend. “Send.” Then, he added, “And don’t worry about me. Send.” He thought Impulse was done, but after a minute, another message appeared. Tango flinched at the notification. Maybe he didn’t need to see it yet- just a few minutes and he’d be done- but no, if it was something important he didn’t want Impulse to worry. He picked up the communicator.

Impy: Ok babe

Impy: Take care of yourself

Tango stared at the message. It took his tired eyes a few seconds to comprehend the words. “Take care of myself,” he muttered, chucking. “Take care of myself?” His eyes ached. Even the sound of opening droppers hurt. Tango’s muscles spasmed. “Oh, sure,” he growled. “I’ll ‘take care of myself’. Just like I’ve been doing my whole freaking life!”

And there he went. Tango knew he wasn’t acting his age, but there was nothing he could do to stop it, even if he hated the feeling. The emotions that had been stewing deep in his chest crashed to the surface, and Tango’s face reddened. “Could my friends leave me the heck alone? No! Could anybody bother to help? NO! Tango’s gotta take care of himself, Tango’s gotta be his own daddy again!”

He sniffed, rubbing at his eyes with his fists. A horrible lonely feeling bloomed in Tango’s chest, threatening to consume his whole body. Feeling like he was being immature certainly didn’t help. “‘Cause- ‘cause nobody cares about poor Tango, nobody’s gonna- nobody’s gonna ask if Tango needs help, because Tango’s a big boy, Tango doesn’t NEED help-“

A sob wracked Tango’s body, and he sat heavily on the cold stone floor. “Stupid,” he sniffled, curling his legs up to his face. “Stupid Tango. Stupid everybody. Stupid, dumb, mean friends.”

His throat hurt. It felt like he was bleeding. Tango swallowed hard and chewed on his shirt sleeve, still salty from tears. It didn’t matter anyway. He’d gotten through worse than this one his own, and he’d get through worse again. Somehow, the thought didn’t comfort him. _Come on Tango, man up, there are people waiting on you_ , he thought. The words felt like they were coming from someone else. _Come on. Up now._ His body didn’t listen, still shivering and crying softly. _Come on, be a big boy._ (He did not become a big boy just by saying that.)

“Tango?” Tango’s head jerked up. What was Impulse doing here? He stayed quiet except for sharp little breaths, listening. “Tango, where are you?” Impulse called again. He could hear Impulse’s footsteps on the stone floor, and wondered briefly if there was time to hide, to pretend he was never there in the first place. But before he could act, Impulse walked around a pile of redstone components, his face a mask of worry.

“Oh, Tango.” He rushed over, kneeling by Tango’s side and pulling him into a hug. “Hey, don’t worry man, I’m here.”

“What the fuck?” Tango had to stop himself from covering his face or apologizing for saying a bad word. _You’re a grownup_ , Tango reminded himself. _Grownups say fuck all the time_. “What do you need?”

Impulse pulled back, confused. “Tango, I don’t need anything. You sent me that text, about nobody caring about you-“ Fuck. “And being your own daddy-“ FUCK. “And I-“ Impulse squeezed him tighter- “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“What? Of course I’m okay, dude, that was like, five whole minutes ago,” Tango said. He tried to laugh, but it came out sounding more like a wheeze. “Man, this is awkward. I didn’t really mean to send you that? It came through on text to speech. So, could you do me a solid and forget you ever saw that?” He pushed Impulse away, grasping his shoulder and giving a strained grin.

Impulse’s brow furrowed. “No?” he said. “Tango, how long have you been feeling like this?”

“Why do you care?” Tango said, maybe a little more harshly than he should have. “I can handle myself, Impulse. I have been for fifteen years.”

“Since you were-“ Impulse counted in his head. “Since you were eight?”

“Yeah?” Tango said. “Like I said, it’s no big deal.”

“Tango-“ Impulse pulled him back into a tight hug, running one hand through Tango’s hair. He leaned against him, nearly tearing up AGAIN like a big baby. Tango didn’t need to be coddled like this, but it actually felt really good. Which was why Impulse had to stop. He grabbed Impulse’s wrist and pulled it roughly away.

“Leave me alone,” he said coldly, even as his body screamed for the tiny bit of comfort to return.

“Well- okay,” Impulse said quietly, his shoulders sagging. Tango tried not to look at his guilty eyes as he slowly stood up. “I’ll see you later, man.”

“Yeah, see you later.” Tango watched his boyfriend walk away. He felt like kind of a dick, but it was better than forcing all his issues on Impulse. Standing up quickly, he got back to finding unique artifacts as quickly as possible, glad that the whole episode was over. And it was over, even as the memory of Impulse’s strong arms around him refused to leave his mind. He felt cold without the heat of Impulse’s body, his strong chest the perfect height for Tango to rest his head on (something he didn’t want to do). Sighing, Tango collected the items and returned them to the lobby of the game.

“Alright, everyone listen up,” he shouted over the din of last-minute trades. “I don’t really care about you guys paying for these, so, get in a line, you all get one random unique and you can trade.” Thankfully, the hermits didn’t push and shove too much as they formed a loose line. Tango didn’t know why they would. Nobody in their right mind would think anyone other than Etho would win, but the hermits still grabbed their uniques and immediately started to barter with each other. Tango handed out the last artifact and got the hell out, before anyone could demand any more from him.

So, that was that. Decked Out was over. As much as he loved the game, he wouldn’t miss the constant maintenance. It reminded him of… things. Things he didn’t have to bother his friends with, he reminded himself. Things that weren’t even bad in the first place, things he had no right to complain about. Still, as he stumbled into his base, that yucky used feeling didn’t go away. Even though he had tons of projects planned for after Decked Out, all he wanted to do was fall asleep to cartoons. He chuckled grimly, taking off his armor and elytra. Just like old times.

Tango stepped up to his bed, loading up his video drive. He didn’t notice Impulse there until he nearly walked into him. Tango jumped backwards with a yelp, quickly closing the screen before Impulse could see what he was looking at. “Hey! Impulse!” he said, arranging his face into a broad grin. “What’s up, dude?”

Impulse opened his mouth, then closed it. “I just wanted to see you,” he shrugged. “But if you’d rather be alone-“

“Naw, dude, what were you thinking?” Tango said casually. He couldn’t stop a yawn from slipping into his voice, but Impulse didn’t mention it.

“Well, it looked like you were about to watch some ‘toons,” Impulse said. “May I suggest Phinneas and Ferb?”

Tango brightened. Phinneas and Ferb was the third love of his life, after Impulse and creatures that could and would easily kill him. But… he had only barely managed to finish up Decked Out without regressing again, and he knew as soon as he sat down in front of the screen he’d be back. And Impulse couldn’t see that. He just couldn’t.

There was a hand on his shoulder. “Come on, it’ll be fun,” Impulse said. “You deserve a break after all that.”

Tango nearly melted into the simple touch, his resolve melting. “Mkay,” he muttered, flopping down on the bed. The moment Tango took the weight off his feet, he groaned. He hadn’t realized how tired he was, but the lack of pain was euphoric. It took him a few minutes to realize Impulse had left the room.

“Hey!” Tango whined. “Where’d’ya go?”

“Just getting some snacks,” Impulse called. “Pick an episode to start with, why don’t you?”

Tango grumbled, but complied. Scooting under the covers, he opened up his video drive, the screen appearing midair as he sorted through all his definitely not pirated shows. Impulse sat silently beside him, balancing a plate on his lap.

Tango glanced over at him. “Apple slices?” Impulse tried to hide it, but Tango knew he loved candy and snacks. Usually, when they watched anything together, he’d grab caramel popcorn, or just a bar of chocolate. “Why apple slices?”

“Well, I figured that after working so hard, you’d be pretty hungry,” Impulse said, “And I didn’t want to be a bad influence. For once.” Tango laughed at the idea that between them, Impulse was the corrupter. “There’s peanut butter on them,” Impulse added. “For protein.”

Tango stared down at the plate. It was such a small gesture, but at the same time, bigger than the moon in the sky. He couldn’t remember the first time someone had made food for him.

“Thanks,” he croaked, trying not to sound like he was crying. Impulse didn’t seem to notice- or maybe he didn’t care, as he pulled Tango closer.

“No problem,” he said lightly. “So, what are you thinking? Any specific episode, or a binge from the beginning?”

“Beginning,” Tango said, his eyelids drooping. He felt little. Normally, he’d be trying to force himself to stop, or kick Impulse out, but somehow he felt even safer around Impulse than if he was alone. He ate an apple slice, grinning as the familiar theme song began to play. Maybe he should tell Impulse a little more about himself.


End file.
